


Deep Reflections Happen When Reapers Aren't Shooting at Us

by orphan_account



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 11:17:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus somehow gets Shepard to clean his head fringes. One conversation leads to another, and he ends up thinking about their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep Reflections Happen When Reapers Aren't Shooting at Us

    “I still can’t get over the size of this apartment, Shepard,” Garrus remarked, lying sideways on the sofa with his head resting on his girlfriend’s lap. “Wonder why it’s so huge.”

     “Mhmm,” Shepard hummed. She was busy scrubbing the grooves between the turian’s fringes with an object reminiscent of a toothbrush. “Don’t ask me. Remember, this is Anderson’s place. Quit fidgeting.”

     “Sorry. And technically, he _gave_ it to you. Sooner or later, you’ve got to stop calling it…" His voice halted. "Hold on.”

     Shepard pulled back the toothbrush-like device in alarm.

     Garrus quickly said, “No, it’s not that. You can keep on… aah, spirits, that’s the spot. I was just thinking - didn’t the Admiral plan to move into this place with that Sanders woman? Explains why there’re so many rooms.”

     “Maybe." Shepard resumed her work and discovered a smudge of grime wedged in a groove further down his head. She proceeded to tackle it with the toothbrush. “But if they were together, they’d still be using one bedroom. The two others… Perhaps a guest room? And the other one - maybe they were planning to fill it with a kid further down the road.”

     Both were reasonable answers, but for some reason, Garrus seemed struck silent. It took a while before he spoke again. 

     “In retrospect, that was a pretty good idea,” he admitted quietly.

     Shepard was barely listening. The smudge refused to give in, and neither did she. However, she managed to ask distractedly, “Goddammit... Hm, idea? Whose? This still about Anderson?”

     Garrus said nothing at first. It _had_ sounded like a good idea: settle down once and for all, _together_ , with nothing more exciting than paying the monthly rent to worry about. Who knew, Shepard could easily get a high-paying job at the Embassies, and maybe he himself could lose enough dignity to try out for C-Sec again. He hoped that if he stalled a few seconds she would start thinking the same things, wishing for the same things.

     But the seconds passed and she remained unresponsive. 

     “It’s nothing,” he finally replied. He was disappointed, yeah, but in the end he was not in the least distressed. Maybe now wasn’t the right time for it. Maybe in a couple of months further down the relationship. And maybe - well, probably - only after getting rid of those idiotic Reapers once and for all. Then he'd be in the best position to try again and truly introduce the concept of starting a family with her.

     But not now.

     To Shepard’s dismay, Garrus started wriggling again, this time moving upwards in his perspective until he was in a comfortable enough position to face her without his headpiece poking through her legs.

     “More importantly, what the hell are you doing to my fringes?”

     “There’s a thing there,” Shepard retorted defensively. “A sort of streak—”

     Garrus balked. “Shepard, It’s a birthmark!”

     Next thing he knew, her facial expression had twisted so drastically that it sent him roaring in laughter. She eventually took it in stride, laying aside the fringe cleaner and masking her embarrassment with the most dignified of glares. When he finally started to cool down, she was ready. “Oh, don’t stop now. Laugh a little longer and you can set a new galactic record. You’ll beat Joker’s reaction to me dancing by a long shot, you asshole.”

     Despite the harsh words, he had the utmost confidence that she didn’t mean any of it, especially since she had gotten to stroking her handiwork. A pleased rumble rose up his throat, cutting into his laughter. It was the same way she always touched him right before they made love.

     He reached out for her free hand. She slipped it into his, and he squeezed it tightly. “You know I love you, Shepard.”

     “Good.” Shepard bent forward as far as she could go, and kissed him. It was hell on her back, but she did it anyway. “Seriously, having me polish your fringes? For all the dirty work you get me into, it’s the least I deserve.”

     “Oh? Then maybe I can give you an even better reward. Although we just might end up getting into even dirtier work. In your room. On the bed. Or right here, if you're wanting it.”

     She stared. “Well shit, Vakarian. You’re actually getting better at this.”

     “I try my best.”

**Author's Note:**

> Got this out of my writing tumblr. Didn't seem to take off very much, so took it down. Figured I might as well post it in an actual fic-storage-place-idk?


End file.
